Boiled Lobster

I love lobster. I eat it all summer long in Maine. In early June, we get hard shells and you have to use a cracker and muscle power to get the meat out. By Fourth of July, the lobsters have molted and we get to eat soft shells. We can break the shells easily with our hands. I say “we” but it was only I who ate lobsters. Steve claimed he didn’t like the taste but what he really didn’t like was the effort and the attendant mess involved in eating a lobster. Of course, he never had a problem eating a messy plate of barbecued ribs or chicken wings, the sauce leaving a greasy trail on his beard and his shirt.

I’m wondering how long it will take me to shed my old shell. How long before I have a new skin to present to the world. It's the same old me inside but somehow everything feels and looks and tastes differently to me.